Attack Of The Fifty-Foot Cordette
by ordinaryguy2
Summary: A one-shot prequel to "More Deadly Than The Male," wherein we learn what happened to certain minor characters during that first Halloween in Sunnydale. By Carycomic!


**Attack Of The Fifty-Foot Cordette**  
by Carycomic

 **Plot summary:** a one-shot prequel to "More Deadly Than The Male," wherein we learn what happened to certain minor characters during that first Halloween in Sunnydale.

* * * * *

 **SUNNYDALE, CALIFORNIA  
OCTOBER 31, 1997  
(3:30 P.M./PST)**

The two teenage boys entered Ethan's Costume Shop. The younger, curly blond-haired one dragging the slightly older one by his left arm.

"Let go, Andrew! I've changed my mind."

"No way, Tuck! You promised. So, I'm not letting you wuss out at the last second."

A thirty-something Englishman with reddish-brown hair, came over to them.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen. I'm Ethan Rayne: the proprietor of this humble establishment. How might I help you?"

"Hi," said the towhead. "I'm Andrew Wells, and this is my brother, Tucker. We're wondering if you have any Wayne and Garth costumes."

"Wayne and who?!" exclaimed Ethan, scratching his head in genuine puzzlement.

"Wayne and Garth," repeated Tucker. "A pair of fictional slacker characters played by Mike Meyers and Dana Carvey on SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE during the Eighties, and then in the movie WAYNE'S WORLD, about five years ago."

Ethan suddenly smiled. "Mike Myers, you say? Ah, yes! I believe I have just what you're looking for against the back wall. Follow me, please."

Twenty minutes later, they took their purchases and sprinted for the front door, eager to get home and try their costumes on. In the process, however, they almost ran Harmony Kendall! The blue-eyed blonde girl who was probably most locally famous for being second-in-command of Cordelia Chase's high school clique - the Cordettes.

"Hey! Watch it, you dweebs!" she shouted after them. "Someone socially more significant, here."

"Good afternoon, miss," said Ethan. "How might I help you?"

"Yeah," replied Harmony. "Like, I'm looking for a costume that's feminine and yet, at the same time, empowering."

"Ah, yes! I believe I have just what you're looking for against the back wall."

Five minutes later, she was looking at herself, in a full-length mirror, wearing a zebra-striped bikini.

"I don't know," she slowly remarked. "This makes me look more like Daryl Hannah in SUMMER LOVERS!"

"Ah!" replied Ethan. "But, that will immediately cease to be the case if you wear. . .this!"

Whereupon, he instantly held up a slender necklace, with sterling silver links, centerpieced by a moderately large gem.

"O-o-o-oh!" she cooed. "That's pretty!"

"It's more than that," declared Ethan. "It's the same diamond necklace that was worn by the late, great actress Nancy Archer in the original black-and-white version of ATTACK OF THE 50-FOOT WOMAN!"

"Uhm!" stammered Harmony: "C-C-Could I try it on, just for size?"

"Not necessary, my dear," replied Ethan. "It comes with this 'costume' as a free bonus."

Harmony needed no further prompting to rip the necklace out of his hands, with eye-blurring speed, and fasten it around her neck with well-practiced ease.

"It's fabulous!" she exclaimed. "But, what's it called? Like, diamonds _this_ big always have names."

Ethan grinned. "I believe it's called. . .The Star of Janus."

By five o' clock, every discounted costume in the store had been sold out. Leaving Ethan free to close up and turn off the front lights. He then went into the back store room, where he brought his prized marble bust of Janus out of hiding. Placing atop a chest-high pedestal that was decorated more like an altar!

"Now, for Phase 2," he chortled.

Whereupon, he began chanting in a language that sounded like ancient Greek. Yet which was, actually, far older.

* * * * *

 **TWO HOURS LATER**

Josephine Dougherty sat in the box office of the Sun Cinema, inflating and deflating the wad of bubble gum in her mouth at regular intervals. Now, that the initial rush was over, it was going to be as boring as usual before the nine o' clock showing of their annual horror film offering. This being Sunnydale, however, the old adage about being careful what one wished for had a bad habit of bearing itself out, quite literally.

"HELP!"

"AH-H-H!" screamed Josephine, jumping in her seat at the thumping of hands upon the Plexiglas window in front of her.

"Help me!" repeated the long-haired, bespectacled slacker in front of her. "Please! He's after me."

"Whoa! Slow down, sir," replied Josephine. "Who's after you?"

"Michael Myers!" exclaimed Garth. "The head case of Haddonfield! Like, I went to my good buddy Garth's house because, like, we were gonna go trick-or-treating as, like, Bill and Ted? And, like, when the front door opens, who's standing there, waiting for me? Not Garth! Like, no, it's Big Mike himself. Crappy Capt. Kirk mask and all!"

"Ha-ha-ha!" countered Josephine (with obvious sarcasm). "Very-frigging-funny. As if you didn't already know that we're showing the re-release of HALLOWEEN 6: THE CURSE OF MICHAEL MYERS, tonight. Well, if you were hoping to get in free, dude, you failed. So, either shell out or get lost."

"But, I'm telling you the tru. . .Ah-h-h-h-h!"

Garth ducked, and dove to his right, as a butcher's knife the size of a machete penetrated the Plexiglas with one blow. Causing Josephine to start screaming in earnest at the seemingly faceless mad man in the green cover-alls before her. The latter, of course, paid her no attention. He merely withdrew the butcher knife (like a zombie version of King Arthur pulling out Excalibur) before resuming his pursuit of Garth.

"Help!" Garth resumed screaming as he ran up North Main Street. "Somebody! Anybod. . .o-o-f!"

Garth fell on to his rear end after colliding with something that resembled a Caucasian-colored redwood tree. He then gradually arched his neck skyward. Eventually realizing that what he had really collided with was the right leg of a fifty-foot-tall giantess in a zebra-striped bikini!

"You! Down there!" thundered Nancy Archer. "Have you seen my Harry?"

"Your hairy what?" asked Garth.

"MY HUSBAND!" shouted Nancy (stomping her gigantic right foot in frustration). "Harry Archer. Is he with that floozy Honey Parker again?"

Garth looked behind him and suddenly got a bright idea.

"N-N-No, lady. No, he's not. Because, like, that dude killed him!"

He pointed to Michael Myers, who had finally caught up to Garth. Whereupon, Nancy started wailing at the top of her lungs while simultaneously wringing her long blonde hair with her hands. In the meantime, however, Michael Myers had bent down to pick up Garth, by the throat, in a vice-like, left-handed grip.

"A-A-A-Argh!" croaked the slacker, as loudly as possible.

Fortunately, Nancy's giant-sized ears were able to pick up that hoarse squeak. Prompting her to re-open her eyes and look down. And, upon seeing Michael Myers raising his butcher knife for the killing blow, she raised her left foot.

"This is for killing my husband, you faceless gnat!"

SPLAT!

Garth fell back to the ground, with Michael's left hand still clinging to his throat. As the whole upper part of the latter's left arm was the only thing left of the Horror of Haddonfield!

As soon Garth had dislodged that unearthly appendage, he immediately started kissing his benefactress's toe nails.

"Oh, thank you. Mwah! Thank you! Mwah! Like, I'm not worthy. Mwah! SO, not worthy! Mwah-mwah-mwah!"

The buxom blonde giantess grinned, as she found Garth's toe nail kisses to be pleasantly ticklish.

"Well, if you really, truly want to feel worthy," Nancy replied. ". . .why don't you try planting some of those puckers up here?"

Whereupon, she bent down and picked up Garth using the thumb and forefinger of her left hand. Subsequently placing him within the cleavage of her ample bosom! She then turned about a full one hundred eighty degrees before walking down South Main Street from the Sun Cinema. The ground rhythmically trembling beneath her feet as she did so.

 **THE END**

Dedicated to Robin Sachs, Mark Hanna, and Allison Hayes.

Semi-needless disclaimer: all recognizable characters/concepts are copyrighted by/enriching somebody else. I own nothing.

Happy Halloween, folks! :-)

Private postscript: that auto-censored word Harmony/Nancy uttered was intended to be spelled F-L-O-O-Z-Y. Could you see if your computer is less fussy?


End file.
